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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29230986">Following the Rules</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva'>Hexiva</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>James Bond (Dynamite Entertainment Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual James Bond, Flirting, Frisking, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:56:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29230986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Technically, policy is to frisk any outside visitors,” Bond commented, casting a glance at Lee.</p><p>Lee cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” he said, grinning. “Oh, well, if policy says so. You know me, I always follow the rules.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Bond/John Lee | Oddjob</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Following the Rules</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another randomly generated prompt, "John Lee/James Bond, policy." For MI6 Cafe's "Rarepair February."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>An MI6 base in Chinese territory - it was a dangerous endeavour, something that could throw the world into war if discovered. That was why James Bond had been assigned to run internal security for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, of course, who would show up but John “Oddjob” Lee, the former South Korean secret agent, saving Bond’s life from a kidnapping attempt by the remnants of Oru. To Bond’s intense humiliation, he managed to sprain his ankle during the fight, and had to be helped back to the base by Lee - with only a minimum of mockery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bond gave the password to the door guard, and they stepped through the dingy, back-alley door into the high-tech facility beyond. Lee looked around at the entrance room, with its automated turrets and metal detectors, and let out a low whistle. “So much for austerity policy, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why cut the defense budget when you could cut the NHS instead?” Bond said. “At least, that’s how the politicians think. ‘Defending Britain’ looks better on their re-election campaign.” He led Lee through the metal detectors, and, somewhat to Bond’s surprise, Lee didn’t set it off. Bond wondered what Lee’s hat-blade was made out of. “Technically, policy is to frisk any outside visitors,” Bond commented, casting a glance at Lee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lee cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” he said, grinning. “Oh, well, if </span>
  <em>
    <span>policy </span>
  </em>
  <span>says so. You know me, I always follow the rules.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was such a bold-faced lie that Bond had to laugh. Lee spread his arms and offered himself up. “Come on, then. Unless you’re too chicken to feel me up?” He shot Bond a sidelong grin. “I know how you repressed British types can be. I wouldn’t want to make you </span>
  <em>
    <span>uncomfortable . . .”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Mr. Lee,  this isn’t the US. No Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell here. I have official permission to feel up as many men as I want.” Bond stepped up behind Lee, and noticed, not for the first time, that Lee was a good inch or two taller than he was. It was both infuriating and attractive, how tall the man was . . . Bond’s hands brushed down the sides of Lee’s torso, under his coat, and then ran down the flat of Lee’s chest, feeling the strong muscles, the ample curve of Lee’s pectoral muscles. He brushed over the strong, broad shoulders, almost massaging the muscles there. Lee turned his head, grinning. Bond suspected he could tell he was being admired. Vain bastard, he probably spent even more on his suits than Bond did . . .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bond’s hands brushed over Lee’s arms briskly, and then his legs . . . and then, suppressing a grin, Bond moved upward to cup Lee’s muscular rear in two hands. “Getting a little familiar there, James?” Lee said, still smirking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just doing my job, Mr. Lee,” Bond said, shooting him a grin. His hands slid around Lee’s thick waist to cup his groin, and Lee made a little noise, and arched into his touch - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Bond pulled his hands back, intensely pleased by Lee’s look of indignation, and brushed them off. “There we go, you’re all clear, Mr. Lee. Oh - except for one last thing . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Lee asked, suspiciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quick as a minnow, Bond’s hand darted out, and seized Lee’s bowler hat, flipping it over and settling it on his own head. “No concealed weapons inside the facility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey - !” Lee said, outraged. “You can’t do that, that’s mine - !”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Bond was already walking away, down the hallways of the base. “Sorry, Mr. Lee,” he said, grinning to himself. “Policy is policy.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked it, please leave a comment! If you didn't like it, I wouldn't mind concrit.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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